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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465608">The Long Way Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theincredibleprincess/pseuds/theincredibleprincess'>theincredibleprincess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Multi, Soccer Mom Steve Harrington, Stranger Things 3, Time Skips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:14:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theincredibleprincess/pseuds/theincredibleprincess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ve reached Chief Jane Hopper, Hawkins Police Department, how may I help you?” El picked up the phone and rattled off her usual greeting. </p><p>“God.” The man on the line sighed, and his gruff voice sounded tired and sad. And familiar. </p><p>“Uh...I don’t know what to say except that I’d like to talk in person. Would you meet me at...at the cabin?”</p><p>El’s heartbeat picked up in her chest. The cabin. She hadn’t spoken a word about it to anyone she’d met since she was 14, and hell that voice was familiar. She had heard it often in that very cabin, her first home, the first place she’d felt safe. This was the voice of the first person who’d made her feel safe. This voice had calmed her when she lost control as a kid, but now it was causing her to panic. Because she hadn’t heard that voice, the voice of the other Chief Hopper, in almost 12 years. </p><p>                                                                           ***<br/>Or, I really need Stranger Things 4 and decided to do it myself. Except there's a 12 year time skip. Why not?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is my first time posting on this website (though I am a long time reader), so I apologize if the formatting is a little weird. I wrote this for everyone going through Stranger Things withdrawal like I am, but these characters and this world definitely don't belong to me. So, a big thanks to the Duffer Brothers and Netflix! Constructive criticism is appreciated, but all flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’ve reached Chief Jane Hopper, Hawkins Police Department, how may I help you?” El picked up the phone and rattled off her usual greeting. </p><p>“God.” </p><p>The man on the line sighed, and his gruff voice sounded tired and sad. And familiar. </p><p>“Uh...I don’t know what to say except that I’d like to talk in person. Would you meet me at...at the cabin?”</p><p>El’s heartbeat picked up in her chest. The cabin. She hadn’t spoken a word about it to anyone she’d met since she was 14, and hell that voice was familiar. She had heard it often in that very cabin, her first home, the first place she’d felt safe. This was the voice of the first person who’d made her feel safe. This voice had calmed her when she lost control as a kid, but now it was causing her to panic. Because she hadn’t heard that voice, the voice of the other Chief Hopper, in almost 12 years. </p><p>                                                                                                        ***<br/>
She had already been on edge for most of the week. The 4th of July was on Saturday, and it seemed like they all were just as highly strung. Not only was she faced with her grief for Jim, but the knowledge that if the gate somehow opened again, she would be powerless to stop it. To protect her loved ones: her best friends, her family, and her husband. </p><p>All of them were still struggling with what they had been through, years after it had all ended. </p><p>There were still days, before El had moved back to Hawkins, when Will had called her over in the night. She would walk into his studio apartment and be hit by a powerful sadness when she saw all the lights on and the heater turned up. But she would stay calm, and she would wrap her arms around her brother. El would stay all night, if she had to, but usually Will turned the AC back on and some of the lights off and told her he was fine. And she believed him, because friends don’t lie. She’s learned that family doesn’t either. </p><p>There were still days when Max would pilfer spare parts from her part-time job at the auto shop. El knew that when Max went home, she’d go into her garage, and pull a tarp off a busted blue Camaro. She would slide (on her old skateboard) under the belly of the car and work on fixing it, while grieving a brother she had never really known. El and her best friend don’t talk about it, but El thinks that Max knows they could - if Max needed to. </p><p>There were still days when she would wake in the night to the sound of her own name. Not Jane, as most called her nowadays, but El or even Eleven. The urgency and fear in Mike’s voice had scared her the first few times it had happened. But there was no real danger, outside of her husband’s dreams. At first, she hadn’t known what to do, and seeing Mike in pain hadn’t helped her think any more clearly. Now El knew that all she had to do was make sure he saw her as an adult, alive and well. </p><p>                                                                                                         
All things considered, everyone was moving on well. </p><p>***</p><p>And then El got the call. Hearing Jim’s voice again was the last thing she had expected from today, and some part of her couldn’t believe it was really him. It seemed like a trap, but damn if she wasn’t going to at least investigate. She owed it to the memory of her dad. But, she was going to be smart about it, and that meant bringing back-up.</p><p>She grabbed her car keys, put her hat on, walked down the hall where the rest of the station was working, and stopped at the last cubicle. Trying to sound casual, she managed a strained and vague message to its occupant. </p><p>“Steve, we have a situation.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Finally, A Destination</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! I am shocked at the reception to this fic, so thanks to everyone who left a kudos or a comment. To the reader who asked after Dustin and Lucas, they will be in here along with the rest of the party. I apologize for the long waiting period, but it may be hard to keep a regular update schedule with everything that is going on with corona right now. On that topic: people, please wash your hands and stay inside whenever possible. Even if you aren't at risk, you could pass the virus to someone who is. We all need to work together to flatten the curve. Now that my brief PSA is over, please enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before Eleven had broken his record, Steve Harrington had been the youngest police chief in Hawkins history. He’d risen through the ranks astonishingly quickly, starting training at 19 and making chief of police by 28. Steve liked to think it was because of his people skills, and he was mostly right. In a town where (seemingly)  nothing much happened, likeability was probably more of a factor than it should’ve been. What most people didn’t know was that Steve had been able to handle all kinds of crazy since he was 16. </p><p>Three years later, his cruiser had been hit dead-on by a pick-up. He was lucky to escape with just a badly broken leg to show for it, the doctors said, though he’d have a limp and a cane for the rest of his life. He didn’t feel very lucky. Even though the Hawkins police never saw much action, there were now legal criteria he didn’t meet for his position, “able-bodied” being one of them. </p><p>He didn’t hesitate in choosing El as his replacement, though the other officers grumbled for a good few weeks afterwards. El quickly earned their respect, having absolutely no tolerance for men who thought themselves above taking orders from a younger woman. Steve was immensely proud, but being on phone duty like he had been when he’d first started made him feel like a bit of a dud. He was happy for the job anyway. This way he could keep Mandy (and the baby inside her) afloat. And screen for calls that were a little stranger than the usual. </p><p>The call El had gotten today had been the first one. Sure there had been false alarms before, but the other side of Hawkins had left them alone for over a decade. He had certainly never forgotten the Upside Down, but as time went on, it had become much easier to ignore. The knowledge and memory of those years always sat in the back of his mind, seeming almost like a dream. They never crossed back into his reality. Until today. </p><p>***</p><p>Even though they are taking El’s car, Steve is driving. El catches her reflection in the side mirror. With her shaking hands and pale face, she looks as if she had run into a ghost. She supposes she had. </p><p>Steve hadn’t questioned her in the station, and he had restrained his reaction when she relayed the call to him as they left. He had looked shocked, of course, but Steve is dependable because he could keep a level head under pressure. </p><p>“I know that it might be some kind of trap,” El began. Though Steve was focusing on the road, she can tell he is listening to her. </p><p>“But what if it isn’t? I don’t know what I would say to him.” El had been playing it over and over in her mind. What do you say to a man returned from the dead? When you’d mourned for him and accepted it, years ago? <br/>Steve glances at her, and he looks worried. </p><p>“El, I didn’t know Hopper well, but I know he cared about you more than anything,” Steve sighs a little, thinking over his next words.</p><p>“If it is him, and he gets to see you again, I don’t think he would care if you were speechless or not. And if it’s a trap, I’d say that the two of us are pretty good in a fight.”  </p><p>El thinks that Steve is probably right. It doesn’t stop her from worrying. Not only about seeing Hopper, but his words remind her of the possibility of a fight. There is a reason Steve isn’t allowed on missions anymore. His injury doesn’t affect him overly much, but El doesn’t want to put that to the test. She doesn’t say any of this out loud of course, because Steve hates talking about it, and hates being left out of anything (even potentially life-threatening situations) because of it even more. Steve has always been stubborn, but it has only gotten worse since the accident. </p><p>	El is so lost in her thoughts and worries that she almost doesn’t notice when they make the turn into the woods. Once they reach the “No Trespassing” signs, Steve parks the car. A gasp escapes El when she sees an unfamiliar mini-van parked next to them. This is definite proof that someone else is here. Possibly her dead dad. Part of her had thought this could be a trick, but now there was no denying it. </p><p>As El approaches the closed cabin door, she takes a deep breath. Then, she nods at Steve. He nods back and puts a hand at the ready on his gun. </p><p>She pushes the door open. </p><p>***<br/>Inside, there is no trap. There is Steve, standing guard in the doorway. There is the furniture, looking exactly like it did years ago, but with a thick coating of dust and cobwebs. And Jim, standing awkwardly next to their old dining table. Unlike the house itself, he has changed a lot in the years since she’d last seen him.</p><p>He is definitely much thinner. His hair is gone, shaved almost completely away, and what she can see is mostly gray. Dozens more wrinkles line his face than the last time she saw him, and he looks tired. Despite all of this, the look in his eyes as they meet hers is instantly recognizable as Jim. </p><p>She walks towards him, stopping only a foot away. She has no doubt that this man is who she’d hoped he was. </p><p>“El?” He asks, his eyes searching her face for a reaction. The sound of his voice is too much for her. She tentatively wraps her arms around him, holding a man she thought was gone forever. </p><p>“I’m right here.” She murmurs in reply. They stay like this for a good minute, neither knowing who is comforting who. Then she steps back, sitting down at the dining table and silently offering the other seat to Jim. She shoots a glance back at Steve and he nods at her, leaving to wait in the car. </p><p>“What happened?” She eventually gets out, struggling through the shock that is starting to kick in. </p><p>“It’s a long story.” Jim says, looking almost as astonished as she is. El laughs, a little hysterically and very wetly, because that is ridiculous. The idea that she would complain of the length of Jim’s tale is ridiculous, because she had spent 12 very long years hoping for it. He had somehow survived to see her again, and she wanted to know how. She quirks an eyebrow at Jim as he gives a chuckle of his own. </p><p>Then he starts to talk.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Old Friends, New Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, everybody! I know that I've basically gone on hiatus with no warning, so I apologize for that. School has been taking up a lot of my time lately, and I'm generally a lot more unproductive in quarantine for some reason. I'd like to thank my sister for helping me to edit this chapter, it would be way worse without her. Hope y'all are doing okay in these times, and that you enjoy the story! <br/>P.S. - Those of you who requested Lucas and Dustin - it's your lucky day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day Lucas returns to Hawkins, serendipity is on his side. During the plane ride back to the States, he’d had plenty of time to sift through his complicated feelings about the homecoming. He still hadn’t figured them out, not even a little bit. On one hand, Hawkins was his home. On the other, there were all the things that might’ve changed. But 4 years wasn’t a long time, really, in the scheme of things. That’s what he’d convinced himself, anyway. </p><p>Four years as an engineer in the army. Four years of a new life, fighting the good fight with new allies against new enemies. Four years away from his old life, his family and his best friends. Four years away from Dustin, Mike, Will, and El. And four years away from Max. </p><p>He hadn’t had time to notify anyone of his arrival time, so he wouldn’t see them in the airport. Whenever he thought about seeing the Party again, he completely blanked on what he might say. What if they were completely changed? What if he was? </p><p>The thing is, his brand of intelligence and strategy had never really applied to people. They were much harder to understand, much more unpredictable than plans or machinery ever had been. </p><p>As it were, he didn’t actually have to think too long about how to meet up with them. As he walked into the terminal, the perfect opportunity seemed to be standing right in front of him. Because it was. </p><p>“Lucas? Lucas!”</p><p>And just like that, the fear is gone. Because there Dustin is, looking different but feeling the same as he wraps Lucas in a bone-crushing hug. </p><p>“Dustin!” Lucas squeaks out after a second, partly to notify his friend that he is suffocating him, and partly to greet the other man. Dustin releases him, grinning sunily. Dustin’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Lucas finds himself mirroring the brightness of his friend’ smile with little hesitation. </p><p>“What are the chances, man? Seriously, it's gotta be one in a million. How are things overseas? Sorry, probably not great since you were, you know, deployed there. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home-” Dustin’s rambling is firing at all cylinders, but Lucas must look pretty overwhelmed, because Dustin cuts himself off and simply says, </p><p>“We missed you. I missed you, a lot. Right hand man and all that.”</p><p>As Dustin and him catch up in the cab back to town, he learns that Dustin’s new job is at Hawkins High, as an AP Physics teacher. He can’t imagine wanting to go back there, but it fits Dustin well, what with all his talk of  “curiosity doors”. He can’t imagine Dustin’s students are as annoying as they used to be. Then again, those kids probably aren't fighting literal monsters, so he should give credit where credit is due. He also learns why Dustin is flying into Hawkins today. </p><p>“So, during the summer I go to Chicago to help grade exams. But last week I got this call from El, and she sounded super freaked out, and then Steve got on and he sounded even worse. And they said that if I could spare the time I should fly back.” </p><p>Lucas can feel himself freeze. After everything, Lucas doesn’t take urgency lightly, and neither does El. If she and Steve were so insistent, something is seriously wrong. </p><p>He slowly turns to face Dustin, whose expression is uncharacteristically grim. Dozens of scenarios, each worse than the last, play through his mind. Even though he’s afraid of the answer, Lucas has to ask:</p><p>“What happened?” He says reluctantly. Dustin’s face falls even further, if possible, and he looks a little far away. </p><p>“I don’t know. Steve said it wasn’t good to talk about over the phone. El sounded more shaken up, but she insisted that nothing had happened. Yet. She seemed like she thought something might be coming.”</p><p>“Shit,” Is all Lucas can think of to say. It seems an accurate summary of everything he just heard, overwhelming as it is. His only comfort is that both Eleven and Steve would have mentioned it if someone was hurt. Or dead.</p><p>“Yep.” Dustin pops the “p”. His friend is looking absently out the window, deep in thought. They spend the rest of the taxi ride in silence. </p><p>***</p><p>When Nancy heard that her newest article assignment was in Russia, she was, understandably, a little hesitant. And then they told her she would be investigating an abandoned lab, one that was suspected to have housed an illegal experiment that had moved elsewhere when the USSR fell. Then she was a lot hesitant. </p><p>It hit a little too close to home, and Johnathan had his reservations as well. Who wanted to take pictures of potentially disturbing things that also reminded you of childhood trauma? No one. </p><p>Nancy insisted the show must go on, though, and eventually her husband-slash-partner agreed. The assignment was very low stakes, there was no evidence of any danger. Still, it never hurts to be cautious, when you’re about to walk into a place like that. They keep their guards up. Their translator and guide, Mila, was doing no such thing. </p><p>“We’re the first people here in over a year besides the local police! Isn’t that exciting?” The woman says, louder than Nancy would’ve liked. She and Johnathan share an exasperated look. Mila always seems a little too enthusiastic, especially more so than you’d expect from an employee of the Russian government. </p><p>Looking at the building, Nancy would hardly describe it as exciting. It’s a light gray structure in a sea of white snow, wide and low to the ground. Nancy might’ve missed it, if she hadn’t been honing her perception for years now. It isn’t anything remarkable, but the sight makes her shiver. Nancy blames it on the cold. </p><p>As they walk inside, the lab no longer seems very boring. It is incredibly dirty, but under the layer of grime, it is easy to see what it must’ve looked like.There are many machines whose functions Nancy doesn’t recognize, but Johnathan’s eyes catch on one, and he sucks in a breath. She sends him a questioning glance, and he pulls her over by the hand. </p><p>“These are the machines they used to use on Will. To read his brain activity, or something. El too.” He whispers, peering back at Mila. Nancy puts a hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“It’s just a coincidence.” Nancy hopes this is reassuring, because she herself is feeling uneasy. Luckily, Johnathan seems to relax a little under her touch. </p><p>They spend close to an hour looking through the place. Nancy focuses on the cabinets of paperwork, while Jonathan takes pictures of the various devices. Mila translates for Nancy.</p><p>Most of what Mila is telling her makes zero sense without more context, but Nancy takes notes anyway. Then one word catches her attention.  </p><p>Hawkins. </p><p>“Mila? Could you repeat what you just said?” </p><p>“Similar research conducted by the United States government in Hawkins, Indiana-” Mila’s voice peters off at the looks on her companions’ faces. </p><p>Nancy’s stomach feels as if it has dropped to the floor, and her heart feels like it is fluttering in her throat. Her hands shake as she grabs the file, staring at the words she can’t understand. </p><p>“Johnathan- I think we need to call home.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. It's A Long Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, everybody! Sorry for the long break. One upside of this hiatus, though, it that it gave me a lot of time to think on and outline this fic, so updates will probably be more regular from now on. Comments and questions are appreciated, but constructive ones only. Hope you are all staying safe in these times, and that you enjoy this chapter!<br/>Shoutouts to: my sister/editor, the Duffer Brothers, Netflix, all the wonderful readers</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One Week Before Lucas Comes Home</p><p>While Steve starts to make the necessary calls, El listens to Hopper’s tale. It is long, as promised, and bleak enough to make a grown woman cry (it does).</p><p>After a quiet sigh, it begins like this: </p><p>“The day that the gate closed, for the second time, you weren’t wrong to assume that a blast like that would’ve killed me. It was nearly a week before I woke up again. If I hadn’t been able to climb underneath the platform and avoid the direct force, I wouldn’t have made it.</p><p>“I think the Russians found me about 3 or 4 days later, checking the ruins for any piece of that thing worth taking. All they found was me. When I was awake again, I wondered why they had taken me back to their country alive. It didn’t take long to figure out.</p><p>“First they tried interrogating me, they knew I had the details of what Hawkins lab had been researching. I didn’t tell them much, even under...duress. The few things I could say about the Upside Down were mostly unhelpful. I thought they would’ve killed me then, but they found another use for me. They didn’t want to expose anyone new to the knowledge of the Upside Down, and since I already knew, I was the obvious guinea pig for their program.”</p><p>At this, El tensed a bit. As a kid, El wouldn't have understood what Hopper meant. But she knew now: A guinea pig is a test subject. Just thinking the words sent a shiver up her spine. To her, the word subject meant fear and a cell, nosebleeds and Papa.</p><p>“During the experiments, I met Doc - I mean Dr. Godfrey. He was the only other prisoner I saw, in nearly 8 years there. Used to work in Hawkins lab. Held that against him at first, but it's hard not to get along with someone who you spend almost every waking moment with. He wasn’t a higher-up at Hawkins, and he didn’t know much. Even so, they ‘convinced’ him to help them with their research. I don’t know nearly as much as he did about the experiments I was participating in, and I didn’t have the background knowledge to figure it out. Doc was a really smart guy, but he hated using his brains for them. He was almost relieved when he realized that he had run out of ideas. Until he came to the understanding that they had no reason to keep him around anymore. Godfrey scrambled to find a scrap of information that was worth anything to the Russians.” </p><p>Here Jim takes a deep breath in, closes his eyes for a moment. Then he continues. </p><p>“Then, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I’d been drugged earlier that day, the effects were just wearing off. And I told Godfrey about you. Not everything, but enough. Not just about your powers, and where you’d come from. That’s what mattered to him. I also told him about my daughter, about how I’d just adopted her, how much I missed her. How much she loved Eggo waffles. I was tired of not trusting anyone, and I wanted someone else to help me remember you. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Now, there’s a pleading and sad look in Jim’s eyes, and she places a hand on his arm. El comforts him the best she can. </p><p>“It’s okay. I understand why, I forgive you. Keep going?”</p><p>Jim gives an empty laugh. </p><p>“You’re too nice for your own good, but I’ll go on. So, I ended most of my contact with Doc, once he betrayed me and you to the Russians. They were angry I never told them about you in the first place, and even angrier when I wouldn’t give them any more details. My time was running out, and it would’ve, but the USSR fell maybe a month later. </p><p>“People higher on the ladder told the scientists to end the program, but they weren’t ready to throw away that many years of research. They lost a lot of resources when that happened. Their funding and legitimacy. It's probably why they haven’t come after you yet. But they still chose to transfer the experiments, and me, to a hidden facility where they could continue without the government’s approval. But to do that, they had to take me outside, something they hadn’t done since I first arrived. </p><p>“That was probably the best opportunity I would ever get. So I took my chance fighting them off. And my risk paid off.”</p><p>To El, it seemed that this should be the end of the story, but something wasn’t lining up.</p><p>“You said you were imprisoned for 8 years. But you’ve been gone for 12.” </p><p>“I promise I tried my hardest to get back to you all. Russia looks big on a map, but that is nothing compared to being there in person. I was in Siberia, and I needed to get to Moscow. That takes a long time even normally. I didn’t have any supplies, or papers. Fake ID was expensive. I eventually got a job working on a railroad, and paid for those papers. I got to the American embassy in Moscow  about 3 years after I first escaped. It took them a couple of months to make sure I was who I said I was, and then they sent me home.”</p><p>El hugged him for the second time since she entered the cabin. He looked like he needed it. </p><p>“And here you are. Home.” She smiles as she says it. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>A week later, Hopper is alone with Mike while El works, shifting awkwardly on the couch at Jane and Mike’s house. </p><p>Jane and Mike’s house. God.</p><p>The idea that his daughter is old enough to have a house and a husband to share it with is difficult to comprehend. Logically, he had always known that as he was getting older, El was doing the same. The reality of it hurts more than he’d expected it would. She’s lived an entire life he doesn’t know a thing about.</p><p>However, he is starting to put together the few pieces he has. El married Mike. She grew up with the Byers in New York (he doesn’t have the energy to think too hard about that). She’s chief of police. She kept his last name. The limited facts he has overwhelm him with pride and grief in equal measure, and he’s almost glad he doesn't have the whole picture yet. Hopper has spent the better part of a week in a  state of shock, and he knows he needs to focus on the present right now. </p><p>He feels the need to make sure El is safe. He’d worried for years that his captors would get to her before he did. That he’d never get the chance to see her again. Now that he can be with El, he hadn’t wanted to leave her side. However, she actually takes her job as chief seriously. Unlike others he could mention. </p><p>At this point, Hopper remembers he isn’t alone as Mike awkwardly clears his throat. </p><p>“Look, Hopper. I know we have never really gotten along that well, but.. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. About everything that happened to you. And you should know that the Byers are on their way. Half of them, anyway. Jonathan and Nancy are out of the country for work. And Dustin and Lucas are in from the airport. We told them, Steve, and Max to meet tomorrow. Is that, uh, okay with you?”</p><p>“Yeah, Mike. And thanks.” Hopper replies quietly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Meetup at Mayfield's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, everyone! It's been awhile. Hope ya'll are doing well! I apologize that it's taken me this long, but updates might continue to be sporadic as school starts up. This chapter is a little filler-ish, but I wanted to take time to flesh out Max's backstory a little bit. The plot really gets going next chapter. With that said, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mayfield's Diner is the sort of place that feels like it has always been there. In reality, it's only 7 years up and running. Max supposes that isn’t very long, she sees places easily 5 times as old all the time, but so much has changed since the diner was opened. Those years might as well be a lifetime.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knows it must feel that way to her mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For most of her mother’s life this place was simply an idea, a dream even. Something to look back on in fondness. Max knows her mother never had enough money growing up to consider opening a business, going to college. Susan had gotten a perfectly acceptable job as a secretary,  and had kept that job through her first marriage. Once she married Neil and moved to Hawkins, he assured his wife </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> would provide for the family. The opportunity to realize her dream had unfortunate timing.  Her chance came when Max was 20, when Susan finally called the cops. The night Neil discovered Max was pregnant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shudders at the memory. A baby out of wedlock, conceived with a drifter named Eddie who she saw only once. She had never seen Neil so angry, not even at Billy. Max forces herself to latch onto more pleasant thoughts, of the days that came after. Of the diner and her daughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most afternoons, 3 generations of Mayfield women can be found going about their work. Susan, at the counter or in the back. Max, taking orders or showing people to their seats. Anne, trying to contribute but mostly just babbling to her grandmother or charming the guests. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Today, Anne was doing homework. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Since when does 1st grade assign homework? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Max wonders. Technically, she is supposed to be assisting her daughter with it, but she can’t seem to focus. Though Max is tempted to blame her lack of attention on the end of an exhausting week, she isn’t very good at lying to herself. The cause of her distraction is the 2 tables pushed together near the front window, the only occupied ones. Though there are 8 seats, only 6 are filled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Max had shakily welcomed Hopper, hugged El, and greeted Mike, Steve, and Dustin, things had quickly gotten awkward. Lucas was just standing there, Max matching his stare. She had resisted the urge to thank Anne for calling her over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>So now she was trying to keep her concentration on the life cycle of a plant. All the while she can still hear those at the table. Mike calls Nancy clingy (he has 3 separate voicemails to listen to, they talked 2 days ago!),</span> <span>Dustin is chatting Steve’s ear off about his summer in Indianapolis, El and Hopper are catching up on the little things. Someone’s eyes are still on her.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Anne is finished, Max accidentally catches Lucas’ stare as she turns around. He looks away quickly, embarrassed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of her says that this is silly and childish, that she should suck it up and talk to him already. It isn’t as though this is the first time she’s seen him since they broke up, since they were 18, since he’d left for the army. But things feel different this time. Maybe because he isn’t leaving again, because he’s staying in Hawkins. Max can remember a time when that was all she wanted. She hopes she doesn’t visibly wince as she recalls their final argument 2 years ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d just gotten back from his first stint overseas. They’d gone out, things were going well. He’d heard about Anne 2 years ago by letter, had had time to get used to the idea. She’d started talking about how stressed she had been, recently. Then he’d tentatively asked if she needed help with Anne while he was home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a big deal, not really. He was just being nice. Her anger wasn’t his fault, she was being unfair. But it was too much for Max. The perceived implication that she wasn’t strong enough to handle it. It had escalated from there. Her last words echoed in her ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t think I can do this on my own? So you want to </span>
  </em>
  <span>help</span>
  <em>
    <span>? I don’t need it. I’ve spent 2 years learning how to do this by myself, 4 years learning how </span>
  </em>
  <span>not </span>
  <em>
    <span>to need you! Where were you then? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She is snapped back to the present by the ding of a bell. Their food is all ready to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She carries a tray to her friends, smiling faintly at the sight of El’s waffles and whipped cream. Her shift is over now, the next girl clocking in, and so Max takes a seat and eats with her friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They don’t really talk about anything that matters, Hopper is saving his story for the whole group, but Max is struck by how nice this is. Just chatting with them. The Party hasn’t been completely together for years now. All they’re missing now is the Byers, who should be arriving any minute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chime over the door jingles, someone new entering the diner. Max doesn’t pay any mind to it. And then she hears a gunshot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like that, everything is chaos. Though the man shot into the air, her friends are ducking under the table. El and Steve have their own guns drawn, trying to get a clear shot at the attackers. But all Max can see is her daughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne is still sitting at the counter, frozen in terror. She doesn’t look hurt, but one of the men is holding his weapon to her head. Max’s heart races. She considers rushing in, damn the consequences, but the man speaks before she can act. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If the sheriff will follow us, the child lives.” The man has a faint accent, and his partner punctuates this point with a second shot at the ceiling. The light fixture cracks and sparks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El backs out of the booth, losing her only cover. Her hands are raised in the air. </span>
  <span>The man not currently threatening Anne waves his gun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drop your weapon. And no magic tricks, Eleven.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>El does as instructed, though her eyes widen at the revelation that these people know who she is. Eleven, El, and Jane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She follows out the door, never breaking eye contact with Hopper, who looks enraged and terrified all at once. Max sighs in relief when the gun is removed from her daughter’s temple, though it remains aimed at Anne. She watches as its owner trails behind her best friend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door closes with the same jingle it opened with. It sounds somehow louder, now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all rush to their feet, Mike and Hopper running out of the door. She can hear Mike’s car start up a moment later, already trailing the men. Though she feels terrible about it, she only has time to hug Anne and press her into a bewildered Susan’s arms before she and the remaining members of the Party follow Steve out to El’s cruiser, tailing Mike. Steve calls the incident in to the other cops as he drives out. He doesn’t tell them much, only the necessary facts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jane Hopper, Hawkins Sheriff, was taken by 2 men, foreign and armed. The diner has been damaged, it might hold some evidence, and that the men threatened Anne Mayfield. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>These words sound so distant to her, though she knows it's just protocol. All she hears is that her 6 year old daughter nearly died today. That her best friend is gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe not for much longer, she thinks. Mike on a mission may be impulsive, but he’s also a force of nature. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he definitely has the right backup. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Joyce Byers walks toward the diner where they’re supposed to meet, she hardly notices the familiarity of the streets. She doesn’t notice that the convenience store where she used to work has closed, that Bob’s Radio Shack is gone, that the old movie theater has fallen into disrepair. Somewhere, Will is narrating these changes, but Joyce can barely hear him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She still can’t believe it. Hopper, seemingly back from the grave. 12 long years had passed. Joyce has spent many of them trying to recover from that day in the Russian’s base. She’d come to terms with it, eventually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean she’d ever stopped aching over it, and she never would’ve. Joyce knew from experience, from Bob, that it wouldn’t just go away. She’d also accepted this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now he was here, back in Hawkins like nothing had ever changed. But so much was different now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can’t imagine what this strange reunion would look like. The old Hop would probably awkwardly comment on her change in hairstyle, ask to bum a cigarette. But she doesn’t know what he was like, these days. She didn’t know how he survived, or where he had been all this time. As she reached the door, though, she knew that she would be able to adjust no matter what. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because this was Hopper, old or new. She takes a fortifying breath and opens the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she had imagined countless ways this could look, she had never imagined what she really saw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A terrified woman, holding a crying child, a broken ceiling light. The tables in disarray. No sign of anyone else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joyce caught Will’s horrified gaze. They hesitantly approach the woman, who Joyce fuzzily recalls is Max’s mother.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Will manages through his shock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Ms. Byers. These men, they came and…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Susan’s eyes are sad when they meet Joyce’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They took Jane.”</span>
</p><p>
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